Don't Stare
by Aevium
Summary: Eyes, Sanji acknowledged, were supposed to say a lot. They could say a lot. Zoro/Sanji oneshot, warning for explicit smut! Birthday gift for Sybile.


**AN: **A very late promised fic for my dear **Syb**! Also a belated birthday gift. Too bad I couldn't make the deadline! This is a fic for her art, "Don't stare, perverted marimo" and it turned out _a lot_ more serious than I'd wanted. Also smutty. And a little bit kinky (little bit). And long. Whoops.

Also, with my terrible motivation lately, I really had to squeeze this oneshot out. And trust me. It was a stubborn son of a bitch. So be easy on me and my smut. And my terrible editing. :P

**Don't Stare**

Eyes, Sanji acknowledged, were supposed to say a lot. They _could_ say a lot.

If there was one interesting thing Sanji had noticed about Zoro during their sexual escapades, it was that the shitty marimo's eyes didn't linger much. He supposed those eyes inevitably stared, but it was more like mere concentration on a job to be done than a stare full of lust and longing. And while it was an interesting observation indeed, it wasn't unwelcomed to Sanji. It was just like Zoro—simple, to the point, no-nonsense. Just a gaze set upon getting a job done. And it was comforting to him that it was an empty stare. Things remained uncomplicated that way.

At first.

He realized he probably held lust in eyes when engaging with Zoro, but he recognized that he was emotional like that. Sanji didn't really like how Zoro could enhance that side of him during sex, but really, the marimo had always been able to get a rise out of him. Sex was just another side of that, in its own intimate way.

What he _really _disliked was not being able to get a rise out of Zoro during sex. Because even though it was just like the marimo's stony personality to remain indifferent, it made the whole situation feel unbalanced between them. It was this that caused the stress-relieving sex game they'd brought upon themselves to feel _truly_ empty, and it was borderlining on becoming downright boring and more fucked up than it already was.

He found it frustrating that, even when he was doing the fucking, that green leaf-head behaved like the damn plant he proved himself to be. He didn't like all of this control the swordsman managed to keep a grip-hold on. Could nothing bend him? His personality and will were as rigid as the steel of his swords. Or maybe he didn't need control. Maybe there was nothing there to control.

Discovering this about Zoro—which really he should have been able to predict—Sanji was realizing the fruitlessness of their situation. Yes, it'd all intentionally begun as an outlet for sexual stress for the both of them… but that's what Sanji had thought. What he was recognizing now was that _he'd_ been the one to initiate it all, and _he_ was usually the one to keep it going, over and over…

In short, this entanglement of theirs had begun as uneven and unbalanced as it presently stood. It was Sanji who'd started it and propelled it. It'd always been this way.

And if Zoro wasn't in on this for the sexual gratification—because he sure as hell wasn't showing it—then it was rapidly becoming something sick on Sanji's end of the bargain. Something one-sidedly lustful, and he didn't want that. He didn't want to be in on this alone. It would make him the weak one, the one who'd been unable to restrain himself right from the beginning. It also pinned him as the lustful freak, making it easy to misinterpret it all as him taking advantage of Zoro's impassiveness.

And so, as he currently set down a late night snack to tide the marimo over for his night watch, this time, this night, with such perfect opportunity… he did nothing but leave the plate and recede back down the hole in the crow's nest. He figured, after many times doing this, Zoro would take the hint that they were done. It wasn't like the idiot swordsman would be the one to question it, anyway. Their times together would float away with the ocean, like memories drifting behind them as the Sunny sailed forward. It didn't bother him. It didn't.

This was why he perhaps didn't expect Zoro to speak.

"That's it?"

Sanji poked his head back up from the latch with a bored expression. "Just be happy with your portion, greedy asshole."

"Not the food," Zoro responded, his face dull. "You're just gonna drop this off and go?"

"What were you expecting?" the cook snorted. "A goodnight kiss?"

"It's just very unlike you to waste an opportunity is all."

At this, Sanji climbed up onto the wooden floor of the crow's nest. He stood and looked straight into Zoro's unwavering eyes. "I'll be clear. This fucked up thing we have going, I want it to stop. It's gone far enough. So, that's it."

"That's it?" Zoro echoed; uncaring, no emotion in his tone.

"We're through," Sanji reiterated.

Zoro took in those words with little reaction. He simply shrugged. "Fine."

Typical of him to not care one way or the other. Just fucking typical. Well, fuck the marimo; he didn't give a shit either.

He supposed Zoro's next move weaved in the beginnings of a pattern of illogical behaviours tonight. Because when Sanji turned to head back down to the main deck, his arm was grabbed and pulled, and he was forced to face the idiot who was, for some reason, holding him back. There was a flicker of something in his gaze amongst all of the bitter coldness. Its contrast held Sanji's breath before Zoro's lips took over.

He'd kissed Zoro before, lip to lip, but only at the very peak of passion, when Sanji had been unable to truly think about it amidst the sex. And even that was _extremely_ rare. Therefore this… this was strange. Zoro kissing_ him_? These rough lips striking him before sexual passion did, it was everything in reverse. And then this strange passion came, and it came stunningly swift. Zoro shoved him against the wall and leaned into his lips again with intense fervour, breathing in through his nose, seeming to suck the breath right out of the cook. Zoro swivelled, kissing him at all angles of his mouth and leaving him no chance to properly speak. Sanji, for the life of him in that moment, could not refuse. This passion, delivered this way, with this kind of _feeling_ that'd been absent before, was much too overwhelming. And it was why he went along with it.

But also why he broke it apart with a frenzied shove.

He panted; sucked in air sharply as Zoro charged forth for more, unrelenting to Sanji's clear refusal. This time, Sanji used his foot and propelled the swordsman onto the other side of the crow's nest. He could barely make out the sound of a groan as Zoro slid from the wall and onto the floor. There was a clank when the impulsive idiot's leg landed on a large weight.

"Did you not hear what I just said! What are you doing you _idiot!"_ he shouted, furious. Furious for having his resolve shattered with that kiss. He wasn't so weak. He wasn't.

"You were serious?" Zoro asked with an aggravating smirk.

"Bastard, are you toying with me?" Sanji rebuked. "Of course I was serious!"

Zoro sighed while he rose to his feet, as though weary of Sanji's responses. "That wasn't serious at all. Prove to me that you are by telling the truth."

The cook frowned. "Don't talk to me like you know what I'm thinking. I'm saying I'm done with this, there isn't anything else you need to know."

The swordsman eyed him stilly, studying Sanji like a book. Then, he stepped forward again, refusing to respect the cook's boundaries. "If you're not going to tell the truth, then give me the chance to prove that you're lying."

The blond glanced to the side briefly as Zoro's form lurked closer. "Shitty idiot, there isn't anything to prove—" An aberrantly tender touch to his chest. He stepped back, about to protest…

"Just let me prove it," Zoro demanded, his voice laced with determination before he leaned under Sanji's jaw.

Lips to his neck, Sanji was still; didn't step back or shove the marimo away, not as planned. Why wasn't this going as planned? Truth be told, he'd been holding off from these meetings with Zoro for more than a week, and clearly the other knew it. Clearly they were both in physical need. That was, if Zoro did indeed _need _this, to his uncertainty. But, _fuck, _this situation was… _fuck._

The disobliging stiffness in his neck and shoulders eventually melted away, yielding to Zoro's lips. "You're such a fucking…" Damn bastard knew he liked that area. He hesitantly put his arm around the swordsman's waist, then gave in and squeezed the fabric of his haramaki. "…asshole."

Zoro made no response, just continued pecking at Sanji's neck and clavicle, searching for that truth in the cook which he was clearly protecting so tenaciously. And even though he'd gotten the cook to succumb to his desires, the search was still on. Sexual desire didn't truly show what was going on within the cook's mind. It was deep in there, perhaps unknown to Sanji himself, but he wanted to claw it up raw for view… somehow. He figured, he hoped, somewhere in the process of their touches and gropes, it would come out naturally.

Sanji—his body a jumble of wants and needs and his mind merging with these cravings—sighed exasperatedly, moving quickly to lift Zoro's haramaki over his arms and head, throwing it aside. Then, he went for Zoro's shirt as the swordsman aimed for his. He was promising himself over and over again as he went through these familiar, forbidden actions: _never again, this is the last time. It won't happen again._

Besides, it wasn't like having a good, final fuck was bad for closure. Just this one last time. Furthermore, Zoro was clearly trying to prove something and Sanji was attempting to prevent him from doing so. And he wouldn't let the marimo win whatever game he was playing. He would prove something _else_ to Zoro; that he didn't need this. That this last fuck wouldn't make him crawl back begging for more, as he'd practically been doing for months. Just like Zoro, Sanji didn't need this sexual link between them, and he would prove it. He could prove that he could be just as empty.

Zoro's calm and controlled but _quick_ fingers went through the buttons of his dress shirt before taking it off. Calmly. Steadily. That cryptic, fleeting passion of his was gone, and he was now composed and concise. Unfazed as he did his work. Always giving off a somehow… uninterested vibe. That this was nothing amazing, just adequate.

He didn't mind it. It prevented complications, so of course he didn't mind it. He didn't.

Though feeling the beginning flares of arousal, he stifled it quickly and brushed his palm against Zoro's bare chest and pectorals, watching his eye movements closely. He wasn't surprised to find Zoro staring down, brown eyes frigidly concentrated on gliding his fingertips along the ripples of Sanji's abdomen. The slow, light touch felt almost kind of thoughtful—like Zoro was in a meditative trance—but he couldn't be sure exactly what the swordsman was feeling with such… _nothingness_.

But Sanji did know it triggered a sensation of stark exposure that went deeper than his own skin.

And so, while internally his fervour was brimming with the desire to _do something more_, he held back in fear of showing too much of himself. Baring his skin with the marimo was embarrassing enough without him having to feel internally nude too, which he sensed far too often. Zoro sucking up all his emotions without sparing any of his own was unfair. He wanted it to be different this time.

Somehow, they ended up reversed, with Zoro against the wall and Sanji leaning into him. The transition happened with no pushing, no shoving; simply a natural movement that occurred through following an unspoken flow. It wasn't exactly peaceful or tender; it'd just been instinctive, caused by the absence of any other action.

Sanji could consider it robotic. And while he disliked it—behaving this way to synchronize with Zoro's flat-lined rhythm—it was really the only option in sight in order to keep their affair clean and straightforward.

He kissed and licked down Zoro's neck, then his collar bone through to his shoulder, and finally moved to his chest and nipples. One of Zoro's arms circled around the back of Sanji's neck, while the other went atop his blond head, and the cook was pushed down further, to Zoro's stomach and abdomen. Sanji didn't really mind Zoro leading his lips like this. At least it was _something_. However to him, right now, their foreplay was beginning to teeter into awkward terrain.

And Zoro knew it too as Sanji began to unbutton his jeans, lacking his usual vigour and impatience with the action. The cook was incredibly transparent to him right now as he leisurely unzipped Zoro's fly. He could just sense the vast amount of energy being bottled up inside the cook. Hell, he could _see_ it bright as day with his scanty breaths, the slight trembling of his fingers, and his clenched jaw. Everything about him in that moment spoke the truth—though perhaps not the one he was searching for—that Sanji was completely holding back.

Zoro was very far from aroused right now and he certainly wouldn't get there with this meagre bullshit.

Sighing, he interrupted Sanji just as the cook was about to dig through his boxer briefs, taking him by the upper arm, lifting him off his feet and then forcing him to the wall. Then, he asked in a daunting tone while searching Sanji's eyes, "What the fuck are you holding back for, dumb cook?"

Really, Sanji shouldn't have been surprised that Zoro was speaking out. The foreplay between them right now was dreadfully dull, there was no doubting that. However, Zoro's question didn't blend well with his inner conflict, and he thus couldn't restrain himself. "I should be asking you the same question, shithead."

"Oh? Ask it then. Do tell what's on your mind, because if this goes on, I'm done for tonight."

Sanji wanted to tell him he didn't care, that they could stop now and it really would not eat away at him later on. But he knew it would—this whole fucking session was fucking with his mind and if they stopped now, nothing would be resolved. Only stagnated. It wasn't like there was any way things between them could be properly mended at this point, so maybe instead of holding back, he should be giving it his all.

"Fuck off, you're not going anywhere," Sanji finally responded with menacing lust.

"You're right. I'm not. I have watch." Zoro smirked cockily with his following words. "_You_ are if you don't show a little vigour, damn useless cook."

Ignoring Zoro's hypocritical taunts, Sanji smiled, and then laughed while shaking his head. "You asked for it, bastard."

Sanji moved swiftly, booting Zoro down onto the floor and promptly climbing on top of his abdomen. Zoro huffed on the ground from the powerful kick. Sanji made a quick glance into the swordsman's eyes, and even after that rambunctious move, Zoro's expression after recovering his breathing was merely cold and competitive. But, that subtle smirk had to mean something—possibly that he was enjoying this—and that was enough for Sanji to act on.

The blond placed one palm on the mat—the side of his hand feeling the tickle of short green strands—while he put his other hand atop Zoro's chest. Then, he shifted down, lining up his cock with Zoro's through their pants, and enthusiastically began to grind. Simultaneously he felt up his abdomen, his palm sinking and rising with toned curves, and then Sanji stroked his finger through the indent of Zoro's sternum before slithering up to feel more of his chest and scar.

Zoro had his hands to his sides, at first letting the cook do what he pleased, but now—feeling the beginnings of himself being carried adrift by arousal—he planted his hands on Sanji's hips to effectively meld with the quickening rhythm. His hands wandered up and down the cook's abdomen and obliques, admiring his slender strength, as well as his assertiveness right now. This was more like it. This was the cook he'd come to know these past few months. Impulsive, rough, yet structured. The guy knew the best ways to get the both of them off, and how he liked to do things. And _fuck…_ just, _this_ was more like it.

As the cook brushed some strands from his face—a faint layer of sweat starting to glisten on his visage—he repositioned himself so that his head was between Zoro's legs. Zoro smirked. Sanji wasn't really selfish with this kind of thing. He'd been a real pain in the beginning—finicky about lots of activities—but lately… lately it seemed like Sanji was doing everything in his power to get Zoro off, unconcerned for himself. Which was why his avoidant behaviour before had been peculiar.

Zoro sat up, leaning back on one hand while Sanji took out his dick and gave it a couple lax strokes. Then the cook's head went down, and Zoro took this opportunity to close his eyes, enhancing the feeling of that wet heat lapping around the tip of his member. Sanji persistently continued, alternating between sucking Zoro's cock and stroking it with his hands. Inevitably, in time, Zoro began to relish in the stiffening pressure and rising pleasure of Sanji's efforts. He wasn't fully hard, but Sanji's tongue circling around his tip was truly getting him there.

Finally Sanji came to hear Zoro's breathing pace pick up with those terse exhales of his. This usually meant that it was time to switch things up. Overkill would do no good. The two of them swapped positions with Zoro now between Sanji's legs. The swordsman calmly undid his belt and pants without rush—which _always_ proved to drive Sanji nuts—and got to work on the semi-flaccid state of Sanji's cock. The blond tilted his head back slightly and clasped the back of Zoro's head to guide him along his member. The marimo always was a little too patient with this kind of thing, and his hand was there to guide and speed up the process. As Zoro's tongue pleased him, Sanji rubbed his long fingers along the shoulder blades and rippling sides of the muscular man's back. He didn't know what it was about Zoro's back, but he really enjoyed feeling it down. Maybe it was the strength of it; all of those healthy, hard muscles…

Sanji felt sweat starting to swathe over his forehead; the increased pace of his heartbeat, and the rhythm of his own breathing beginning to fall from his complete command. Tonight, it didn't take Sanji too long to feel ready for more. His member was not at its solid peak but still at that perfect stage of expanding satisfaction; the completion of foreplay on his end. He put a finger to Zoro's forehead and roughly poked him away from his cock. "That's enough, I'm good," Sanji informed him.

Sanji then leaned forward and pushed at Zoro's chest with his fingers, guiding him back. He watched Zoro's eyes as he did so, and felt a wave of determination when he saw nothing but the faintest hints of physical arousal. Nothing else. His previous resolve tonight had been to feel nothing himself, to mimic Zoro, but now he had a burning desire—possibly stronger than he'd ever experienced—to make Zoro finally_ feel something_. To somehow dig them up, wherever these emotions were hiding. If they did exist, then they had to be somewhere. Because there was something different about Zoro tonight, something loose. Like hidden pieces of him were slipping through the cracks and Sanji knew he needed to take advantage of this rarity.

Zoro was now down on his elbows. He waited for the cook to make a move, since he clearly was planning something. He tilted his head up as Sanji breathed out fervently and stood, hastily taking off his pants, revealing burnt orange briefs. The cook's erection poked out through the front, and he didn't seem patient enough to take off the briefs; he simply magnetized back to Zoro with haste. The deliciously lustful expression on Sanji's face as he curved down to straddle Zoro's hips caused something to swell up inside of him; so unexpectedly that it overwhelmed his senses. The cook took out his aroused cock fully and began to fondle it while asking a question that was just background noise to Zoro; totally muffled to his ears. Zoro felt so much sheer _want_ and desire, and just the weight of Sanji pressing his own erection to his midline, with that tight, thin orange material separating him from the cook's ass… _fuck, _he wanted to fuck him right here and now. But before he threw the cook down to attack, his eyes lifted and connected with a strikingly blue one, and he held his breath.

Sanji was staring at Zoro in shock; mouth parted, eyes vexed. Holy shit. Holy _fuck._ Zoro hadn't responded to his question, which prompted Sanji to pay closer attention to him. Zoro had instead been gazing at his body, in a dazed trance—but Sanji could feel the difference from usual. And when Zoro's eyes came up to meet his… this wasn't an empty stare; it was lustful, longing, _emotional_. And seeing his features enhanced by a massively handsome smirk, oh _fuck._ He succeeded in getting a reaction out of Zoro, but he wasn't having the prideful response that he'd imagined. No, instead, Sanji felt a throbbing heat in his ears, cheeks, and neck. He was being struck by something intense, here, and he didn't completely understand it and he definitely hadn't expected it. But he was… goddamn fucking _embarrassed _and he didn't know _why_.

After recognizing this, the blond didn't even think and merely reacted. He sent his hand out, palm first, and covered the stupid idiot's lascivious eyes, because those eyes were saying far too much at once after a humungous stretch of silence. He couldn't help but demand with an uncomfortable frown, "Don't stare, perverted marimo." But that smirk of Zoro's still remained, and it even extended further across his face.

"What, you don't like me staring?" Zoro quipped, his voice laced with jest. He couldn't help but smile because, somehow, the authenticity of Sanji's surprised expression and his blush—which he did indeed catch before his eyes were smothered—convinced him that he'd finally uncovered a buried truth in the cook. He had yet to decipher it, but it wasn't really necessary. It simply felt… real, genuine, and honest. It _felt_ like a truth; what he'd been looking for, and Zoro could definitely trek along that path of valid instinct.

"Shut up," Sanji spat, for lack of anything better to say. Truly, he felt stunned, and curiously now—as he retreated his hand away from Zoro's eyes—_really_ turned on. He kept one hand lightly touching his dick and the other on Zoro's midsection. "So how do you want to do this?" he asked.

Zoro promptly replied, knowing his answer. "You're already on top of me, so…"

Sanji smirked as he began to shift backwards from his spot on Zoro's abdomen. "You're full of surprises today, marimo. Since when do you actually—"

"Shut up, stupid cook," Zoro rebuked, immediately realizing Sanji's misinterpretation. He took the blond by the hips and held him in place, and then clarified: "I want you to ride me."

Sanji made a face. "You say it like I'm ready to oblige."

"You were courteous enough to ask, dipshit," Zoro retorted.

"Well, whatever. I guess it's my turn, anyway. Though I still have to do all the work," Sanji said, and then he began to chuckle. "I guess your laziness transcends normal boundaries, doesn't it, marimo?"

Zoro growled, getting frustrated with the cook's banter. Sure, they shot wisecracks at each other all the time, but in moments like these—with his dick _begging_ for attention, _now_—he really didn't have his usual endurance. The fucking cook talked _way_ too much. "Just shut the hell up and let's get to fucking!" he demanded, giving Sanji a shove at the chest.

Sanji managed to keep his balance on top of Zoro, shooting his arms behind him and catching himself with his knuckles to the mat. With the thought that Zoro tonight was really proving to surprise and excite him, he smirked exquisitely. "Well I'm flattered that you're so eager, you lech."

Zoro simply grunted at him as he got his erection ready, spitting into his hand and rubbing himself down. This was mostly what the both of them resorted to, since it was helpful to have some initial moisture to keep everything comfortable. But it didn't really matter, both of them could take what the other had to give and that was what made the whole experience enticing for him.

Meanwhile, Sanji shifted onto his knees and then put an arm to his side, slipping his briefs down. Then he rested his ass back onto Zoro while untangling the orange briefs from his ankles. Zoro's eyes were glued to him all the while, and he watched them with a seductive smile. On top of these lovely reactions he was getting out of Zoro—who right now was actually expressing hints of desperate _need_—the guy had picked a good position to start off with. Over the months, he'd come to really enjoy riding Zoro, sometimes even more than fucking the marimo straight up. This position held a very unique element of control, and it was something that drove him to ecstasy. Controlling both pleasures, both orgasms, _fuck_, he loved every second of it. Plus, it felt fucking _awesome._

"Hurry up, fucking cook!" Zoro hastily demanded.

Sanji grinned at his abnormal impatience. Another great thing about this position was that it would blend well with Zoro's responsiveness today… and he was hoping to squeeze out every last drop of emotion.

Hovering over his erection with one hand back and one right beside Zoro's torso, he glanced in front of him and caught his expression; eyebrows tightened with tension; stomach rising up and down with every anticipatory breath; mouth slacked open with clenched teeth behind his lips; and of course those eyes, fixated directly on the erotic sight, glazed over and waiting; anticipating. Sanji gulped and wet his lips. The sight was simply too fucking _hot_ and _stunning_. He'd definitely felt his cock move. And he wasted no more time then, because _he wanted Zoro so fucking bad right fucking now._

He lowered himself down, tentatively sinking onto Zoro's cock and Sanji gave a clipped sigh when he covered the tip completely. And though he desperately wanted more, he forced himself to hold back and stop there, his strong legs supporting him. The denim of Zoro's jeans grazed his tense hamstrings, and he realized the awkwardness of his position. Zoro looked at him like he was an idiot, but Sanji ignored him, moving one hand behind.

"The fuck, cook! Just go down already—!"

The blond ignored him and instead fondled with Zoro's balls, which effectively cut off his complaints. A good sign. He took in a deep breath when he witnessed Zoro's Adam's apple bob with an unreserved swallow. Sanji wanted badly to take all of Zoro into him _now,_ so could understandably emphasize and read Zoro like a book. The guy wanted him just as terribly, but Sanji continued to trifle with him.

Feeling Sanji on his tip but not going any further, _and_ toying with him underneath, _fuck_, it was more frustrating than he wanted to show. But his eagerness was beginning to trickle out of his shell through his behaviours—he was even beginning to _squirm_ a little—and his pride wasn't happy _at all_. He wouldn't let the fucking cook gnaw away at these stupid reactions, and he most definitely wouldn't be toyed around with.

Sanji's fingers on his balls were shooting fantastic sensations up his cock which _needed_ more and—_fuck_; now those fingers were slinking up along his shaft. When Zoro let a strangled moan escape him, it was the last straw. The moron was dawdling ridiculously at this point, lulling away time like a bastard, and he wouldn't have it anymore. His cock needed more than this bullshit and if Sanji didn't want to deliver it _right now _then he damn well was going to make it happen.

Sanji really shouldn't have been shocked when Zoro brusquely grabbed him by the hips and forced him down, abruptly completing the penetration. "Agh!" he let out, sharply sucking in air through clenched teeth. "You fucking _bastard_, damn you!" While the suddenness of the act had made it more uncomfortable than it could have been, he'd had lots of rough sex with Zoro before and it actually enhanced the passion in a way that he just absolutely _relished._

Zoro grunted, absorbing the staggering sensation of such rapid heat on his cock before snapping back, "You're the bastard in slow motion! Now _move_, fucking idiot!"

Sanji was going to retort, but his vivacious libido held him back. Zoro's newfound impatience still wasn't failing to light his body and mind on _fire_. He _needed_ to move. And so with a fierce exhale, he showed no restraint and slid himself along Zoro's cock, fast and _hard_. Zoro's hands were still seizing his hips despite the fact that they did nothing but ride with Sanji's quick rhythm, but he supposed the marimo liked to keep them there for some scrap of control. He smirked and licked his lips, watching Zoro's face for fragments of emotion while keeping his own under a surprising amount of control. It was perhaps surprising, but not flawless as he let his head roll back slightly, a muffled groan escaping him from the back of his throat.

Zoro had his mouth firmly shut and his jaw stubbornly tight, but with every passing minute his breathing pace amplified, forcefully breaking through his nostrils. Too small an exit for the boisterous breaths he was suppressing within. Oh… _fuck_, this was feeling too damn _good_. Sanji slamming up and down on him; the sight of it alone made him doubt his stamina for tonight. The cook was going at it so hard that he occasionally lost proper aim on Zoro's cock, and every time it slipped out he grumbled under heated breaths while fumbling around beneath him to sink back around it. Zoro always enjoyed this loose, frenetic side of the cook. It had him so aroused he really didn't know how much longer he would last.

Sanji was definitely immersed in this crazed, unrestrained state of his. When he managed to rub Zoro's head against a dangerously rousing spot within him, he took in a shuddering gasp as an overwhelming amount of euphoric sensations shot throughout his lower abdomen, shivering up his spine. He panted and slowed down, before determinedly picking up again. But his cock was _rock hard_ now; he could feel its pressure and weight. _Fuck,_ this was incredible. At this rate he would be done in minutes. Sanji didn't want this. He decided to try to hold himself back, sticking to teasing Zoro a little more, even if it meant teasing himself in the process.

Zoro was wholly into the cook's movements, rubbing his hands along Sanji's long thighs with their intense pace, but then Sanji slowed and focussed more attention on rubbing Zoro's torso and nipples. And every time the blond slid up his cock with unpredictable timing, he did it _slowly _and made sure to clench all the way up. It was a fucking terribly _effective_ tease. Then the blond bent over so that he could get those lips his skin, and as he did so Zoro's dick was close to slipping out of Sanji completely. But the cook kept him in there by the tip and sporadically moved back on it, though not nearly enough. Zoro's panting came out in aggravated grunts when his hip movements were not being reciprocated, and he was about to knock the damn cook on his back to fuck him _his_ way, but then decided that two could play at this game.

He circled his fingers around Sanji's dick and perched his thumb on the head, rubbing it around tauntingly. The short, stirred sound Sanji made along with that competitive grin seemed to completely light Zoro's mind on fire, in the best way possible. He squeezed around Sanji's member and stroked and played with it more, despite Sanji's curving midsection slightly interfering with the action. In response, Sanji licked and sucked along Zoro's scar and nipples, trying to get a rise out of him. Normally that area wasn't the most effective place to stir Zoro up, and yet he noticed the cook always tended to do it. However, this time it worked, to some extent, probably because Zoro was already astoundingly aroused and Sanji looked so incredibly sexy as he did it.

He did know, however, how much Sanji liked getting kissed on the neck. And with the cook steadily moving up his body—now completely separated from Zoro's cock, to his chagrin—it made it easy enough to shift up on his elbow and twist over to claim his neck. He licked and kissed Sanji's moistened skin, appreciating his natural taste and the reward of harsh pants that the cook let out by his ear. Sanji's lips were on his jaw line, a spot he _did_ enjoy, but he realized that their competition was getting far too passionate and, dare he say it… _amorous_. Also, if he didn't finish soon, he swore it would do something damaging to his manhood.

Sanji could admit he'd had it coming when Zoro shoved him away with overwhelming strength, and he landed right on his back. As he tried to collect himself, Zoro pounced and locked his wrists to the floor. Zoro's eyes were fierce, strong, and desperately hungry. Again, the intensity of them after so much emptiness proved to absolutely stun him.

Zoro leaned in close, panting. He could feel how flushed his cheeks and ears must've been from so much pent up arousal, but he was ready to deal with that here and now. "Enough games, shitty cook," he said gruffly. He settled in between Sanji's legs and wasted _no more fucking time_ to pound the cocksure fucker into oblivion.

Sanji grunted madly with accelerating, heart-pounding pleasure. As much as he liked his share of control, he'd _never_ seen Zoro this furiously passionate, nor _felt _it, for that matter. And it felt _fucking fantastic_. Zoro slammed into Sanji to the base of his dick and kept up a mindboggling quick pace. He sucked in air through his teeth when Zoro rubbed an amazing spot inside him. "Ahh, _fuck_!" He couldn't even… couldn't even think. Just frantically moved his hips with those vigorous thrusts as much as this position would allow.

Like this, they worked themselves up to the frantic _peak_ of excitement and arousal. Zoro looked about ready to come; his gravelly breaths were coming out in full, rapid cadence and he looked like he was in pure ecstasy. Immensely turned on by this, Sanji groaned, grunted and cursed, running away with the intensity of his approaching orgasm. But a desperate impulse suddenly took over him, and he simply didn't want to finish like this. He used his strong legs to kick Zoro at the chest, knocking him backwards.

"Agh, _man_, fuck you!" Zoro practically growled, his frustration and arousal levels both at a ridiculous high. "I was seriously about to come!" He leaned up on his elbows—feeling the horribly noticeable weight and pressure of his erection—only for Sanji to push him back.

"Stop whining," Sanji scolded with ragged breaths, climbing back onto Zoro and forthrightly taking in his cock again. "You wanted it this way, so we're finishing this way." He braced his hands onto Zoro's chest and hung his head slightly, engrossed in his ardent desire to bring the both of them to completion.

Sanji silenced any words Zoro might have thrown back at him with rapid, powerful movements. As he pounded down onto Zoro's length, Zoro's responsive thrusts helped Sanji ride his cresting climax. The cook avidly took his cock in deep, sinking down and up with a perfect, eager speed which drove Zoro's sensations to the absolute top. Sanji's sweat strewn hair swayed with his pushes and held to his skin with his pulls, and the cook's head was faced down with his eyes shut. Purely feeling. Their breaths were rampant; their moans and grunts wonderfully scattered and primal. Zoro battled with the urge to let go, trying to hold out longer than this. But he fucking loved watching Sanji's reactions as closely as he was, and it made him realize that the cook probably wanted to see the same erotic sight on him. And when his thighs and lower torso began to tighten up, with his cock feeling like it was brimming with sheer, heaping pressure, he knew, truly, that he was at his end limit.

Sanji watched Zoro's emotions; heard his deep pants; felt the marimo's thighs trembling beneath him, and his fingers clenching sharply into his legs. He knew Zoro was getting closer than him. He wasn't finicky about much between them anymore, but he still didn't prefer the marimo coming inside him.

"Cook, I'm…"

"Fucking_ wait_, hold on," Sanji sharply demanded, and Zoro growled with urge. He was very aware of Zoro's situation—he too was madly advancing to the cusp of his own pleasure—and so he went in for a few more deep, wild strokes to try and rub it one last time, while gruffly murmuring to reassure Zoro, "Just wait, okay? Almost, ah… _agh_, fuck…" Almost, almost… _there!_ As his lower body succumbed to an intense, terse shudder, Sanji willed himself with a harsh moan to pull out, shifting forward and letting Zoro's hardness press against his ass and tailbone.

Soon after, the convulsions of Zoro's orgasm powerfully overtook him, and he gave a low, throaty groan when he let go, spurting onto Sanji's back. He moved his hips with the climax while snaking one hand around the obstacle of Sanji's torso to stroke it as much as possible, thoroughly riding the spasms out.

Recuperating from his own spasms, Sanji found Zoro's tough muscles not hard enough to support him anymore and he slipped a hand to the mat. The fingers of his other hand squeezed and rubbed on the throbbing head of his erection. Sanji was _rock fucking solid_, and the manic, imminent feeling _needing release _brought him incredibly intense euphoria and fervour… it made him realize that spending more than a week without this really had been torture. But expecting to cut it off entirely in the near future was an even more agonizing thought. These were the only logical thoughts going through his mind, the rest were a hazy blend of amazing sensations and want and need, and at this pinnacle height of passion, he wasn't afraid to strip his emotions bare.

Suddenly, he looked to Zoro who was staring up at him with such intensity that Sanji felt torn apart from all logical thought, and instead reconciled with pure, heated passion. Just as jolts of pleasure branched out within him below, Sanji threw himself forward, stomach to stomach, grabbing Zoro by the jaw and melting into him with a forceful, fervid kiss. He stuck his tongue deep inside, melding and twisting it with Zoro's. His impulses were getting the better of him again, but with orgasm overcoming him now, he really didn't give a fuck. His mouth parted on Zoro's lips in response to the blissful tremors of his body, and then he finally came between them with an erratic hum.

The cook's deep, shuddery rasps on his lips encouraged Zoro to continue the kiss Sanji had started. He opened his mouth and rolled into a rhythm. Sanji's lower half was still grinding along with the fading energy of his orgasm, but his upper half was shockingly tender. The cook moved his hands to cup the sides of Zoro's head, jangling his earrings in the process. With every break, they hummed and panted against each other's lips, recovering from the hangover of amazing, amazing sex.

Sanji, after recovering his breathing a little on top of Zoro, eventually rolled off of him to lie on his side. He sighed through his lips, massively relieved, before sitting up to retrieve his cigarette pack and lighter out of his dumped pants.

Zoro watched Sanji light up with his back to him and noticed the mess he'd made of the cook's back. He stood and grabbed a white towel he'd previously left on the seats before sitting down behind the cook to clean him off.

Satisfied with his nicotine fix, Sanji slowly exhaled with a cigarette perched between two fingers at his lips. After feeling the fabric of the towel release from his back, he looked over his shoulder slightly. "Thanks," he acknowledged.

Zoro merely hummed in response while cleaning off his own stomach.

After a couple drags, Sanji had to relish in the languid, but completely relaxed state his body was in. "Shit, marimo," he began. "I think that was the best goddamn sex we've ever had."

Again, Zoro simply made a sound to let the cook know he agreed.

Sanji pouted out his lower lip slightly, staring outside at the darkness of night from the crow's nest. He didn't know where the fuck they would go from here. He'd originally come up to end their whole fling, and instead wound up here, his body immensely satisfied and relieved, but his mind torn on what to feel. This was what he meant by it being a delicate, dangerous situation. Ah, fuck. He was an idiot. He never should have succumbed to his lust like that. He'd made a firm decision and he should've stuck with it. But… Zoro's eyes, and those fragments of emotion. It made him feel somehow comfortable with it all, but that was contradictory. Getting Zoro to open up had to be the most hazardous thing of all, right? Amidst the sex, he'd wanted it. Now, he was wishing it had never happened. This was risky business, right here.

Not wanting to accept these confusing thoughts right now, Sanji casually stood and announced, "I'm off to shower, then sleep. Don't snooze on your watch, lazy swordsman."

But for the second time that night, he was halted by a hand around his forearm. He turned back, somewhat worried at what he might find. He was eye level with brown eyes. Calm but intense, hungry and dull, desperate and bored brown eyes. A whole mass of perplexing contradictions in one look. He fucking… he _didn't understand _this bastard.

"What do you want?" Sanji asked him drearily. "I'm not up for a second round, perverted green bastard…"

Zoro stepped forward and planted a strong, yet stock-still kiss on Sanji. The swordsman didn't make it last long, and pulled away with a determined glare. Sanji stared back at him with subtle shock, but overall he looked mostly confused. Zoro grinned. "You still want to end things?"

"Oh, _fuck you,_ you cocky bastard," Sanji erupted, scowling. He tore his arm out of Zoro's grip. "You think a kiss will make me come begging for more, huh?"

"Maybe not that," Zoro claimed, crossing his arms. "But what just happened proves that you lied about wanting to end this."

"What the hell are you blabbing on about—?"

Zoro snorted, interrupting. "Oh come on, the way you stared at me every time I made a damn peep, and how you acted on it? You practically pounced on me today, and it was because something was different. You're telling me that doesn't explain what your problem is?"

"What the fuck are you suggesting, marimo? Make it clear!" Sanji demanded, clenching his teeth. He knew the marimo wasn't emotionally intelligent enough to pick up on this shit, so what was he worried about, right?

"I proved it, that you were lying," Zoro said with a confident smile. "By showing you a side of me that you're not used to seeing. You don't want to stop having sex… you just want me to start responding more, you fucking sap."

"What? That…" Sanji drifted. So Zoro had been pretending the whole time? Or had those emotions really belonged to him? Ah, fuck. This was pointless to avoid. But somehow, his own emotions always managed to get the better of him. "Well _excuse me_ for not wanting to fuck an emotionless plant-head fucker like you, you know, it gets a little dull! And, what, so you faked your emotions just now? Just how fucked up are you to mess with me like that!"

Zoro stepped up menacingly and tugged harshly at Sanji's ear, who responded with a growl. "_Listen_, moron. I said I _showed_ you a side of me. I didn't fucking make it up!" He watched Sanji's visible eye widen, and, realizing what he'd just admitted, Zoro scratched the back of his head and looked down, suddenly feeling warm. "I mean… shit, just, you know me well enough. I don't show my emotions much, that's all. And all this time you've been avoiding me, it gave me time to figure it out. That maybe… I was the problem."

Sanji had been scowling, but after this… he couldn't resist the massive smile that sprouted on his face. Then, he started laughing. For so long now, he'd been afraid of thawing out Zoro's emotions in fear of stepping into deeper, unwanted territory and at the same time, afraid that he was taking advantage of Zoro's indifference; that he was the one being lustful without reciprocity. But really he'd just been disguising the fact that he was scared about being the only one feeling anything at all. So it felt kind of hilarious to Sanji now that Zoro was labelling himself as the problem, when really, the both of them were to blame. They were both such idiots.

"What the fuck is so funny?" Zoro shouted, embarrassed.

"Ahh, shit," Sanji ended his laughter with a curse, turning his head to the side. He felt too embarrassed to face Zoro properly. He clutched the bridge of his nose. "You weren't the only problem. Seems like everything was a big misunderstanding between us." Then, he gave Zoro a taunting smirk. "But for the record, marimo, you really should've opened up sooner."

"Ahh? Me?" Zoro said, irked. "Maybe _you_ should've said something sooner, stupid cook!"

"Like I would've gone up to you demanding you tell me your 'feelings'! What the hell kind of a man do you think I am!" Sanji barked back.

"You tell me. You're the one who wears the pink apron."

"Huh? That has nothing to do with any of this! Quit changing the subject!"

"Okay, fine. Back on topic, then. So…" Zoro stumbled, unsure on how to put it. "Is this it?"

Sanji sighed, exhaling an impressive amount of smoke. At least the nicotine was easing his stress. He walked over to collect his clothes on the floor. "In two days…" he began, calmly putting on his pants. "I have watch up here." He attached the buttons while moving up on his dress shirt. "So, if you're up for it…" he teased, looking up from his shirt with a smirk and seductive eyes.

Zoro casually hung the white towel over his shoulder and grinned back.

"…Join me?"

**AN:** This is seriously… _the_ smuttiest thing I have ever written. Should I be proud? No? Maybe? Yes…? Okay. XD I hope it was realistic, kind of. I tried. But hurray for dom!bottom Sanji, I am a fan. And sorry for the crappy ending, I got lazy. Happy belated birthday **Syb**! xD


End file.
